


Piece Of Your Heart

by imaginingstars



Series: The Therapy Verse [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Nightwing (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Bruce Damian and Alfred are only there at the start, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Humour, It Just Hasn't Come Up, M/M, Secret Relationship, Tim Is Literally In The Closet, but not really on purpose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:47:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24609406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginingstars/pseuds/imaginingstars
Summary: When Tim doesn't hear from Dick in a little while, he does the only thing a member of the BatFamily could possibly do: he breaks into his brother's apartment to see if he's home. What he finds leaves him a little surprised to say the least.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Jason Todd
Series: The Therapy Verse [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1777552
Comments: 16
Kudos: 300





	Piece Of Your Heart

**Author's Note:**

> This is a vague follow-up to Old Scars/Future Hearts, but definitely works as a stand-alone. I wrote this with the thought that there was absolutely no way the either Dick or Jason would have told the others about everything, especially before the time-skip at the end of Old Scars/Future Hearts, and after it they probably figured it was too late to bother.
> 
> Title from the Mayday Parade song of the same name.

“You seen Dick?” Tim says, entering the Batcave. Alfred’s by the Batcomputer, and the Demon Brat is perched beside him, sat on the desk and swinging his legs in a way that makes him actually look his age. Bruce is over at a workbench, scowling at a sample before replying tersely.

“Not for a few days. Haven’t heard from him either.” The second sentence forestalls Tim’s next question. 

“Neither have I,” Damian chips in, and Tim’s about to be astounded that he’s being helpful before he adds, “Though if it were just you he were avoiding, Drake, that would be not only understandable but encouraged.” 

Tim rolls his eyes. Even after settling into their respective new roles, he and Damian had never reconciled, and given that he plans to treat Damian in the same way the kid treats him, that won’t be changing any time soon. 

“Well, do either of you know if he’s in the middle of a case right now? I could use some sanity and time away from the Titans.” 

“Don’t know.” Bruce has gone monosyllabic, which indicates that he won’t be any good for any conversation until he’s closed the case. Tim rolls his eyes again and, with a brief murmur of farewell to Alfred, takes his leave. 

* * *

Tim feels he should preface this situation by saying that he didn’t mean to be creepy. He certainly didn’t mean to end up awkwardly stood in Dick’s closet spying on him. The whole thing had arisen from his concern. Tim had snuck into Dick’s apartment to try and find his brother, and to check that there was no sign of a break-in. He hadn’t expected much on the latter front; Dick’s whole apartment usually looks like a bomb site, and any indications of a struggle would be nearly impossible to notice. Instead, he’d been greeted by a surprisingly tidy house, and he’d been so taken aback by the scene that when he’d heard a noise, he’d panicked and hidden in the closet in the living room. 

So now he’s stuck with nothing to look at but the sofa as Dick walks in (Tim notes that he’s not alone, but he can’t place the other voice even though he knows he recognises it) and heads for the kitchen. If he leaves now, Dick would understand the situation, but whoever his companion is will almost certainly mock him relentlessly, if the tone of the voice and the feelings it elicits in him are anything to go by. 

“You can’t be serious,” says the voice, and Tim’s starting to think he knows who it is. He knows why he hadn’t placed it – the idea of Jason willingly being in Dick’s apartment had appeared ridiculous. Now, though, he thinks he’s missing something. “We went out to get milk, and you side-tracked me so much we _forgot the fucking milk_.” 

“I thought you had it,” Dick replies, semi-apologetically but also clearly amused. 

“I swear to God, babe, you can run a mission no problem, but if you were left to your own devices, you’d probably die of scurvy after forgetting to eat anything but cereal,” Jason sighs. He sounds long-suffering, but Tim’s brain is in the middle of a reboot. When did Dick and Jason get close enough for Jason to call Dick ‘babe’? And Jason really doesn’t seem like the kind of guy to call anyone ‘babe’ platonically, which means... 

Fucking hell. No wonder Dick hasn’t been hanging round the family. He’s been too busy _dating Jason_. 

“You sound like that meme. ‘Nooooo, don’t die of scurvy, you’re so sexy, haha’.” 

“You ever say that again and I’m leaving you.” 

“Nah, you love me too much.” 

“I really do,” says Jason softly, an about-face in attitude that leaves Tim dizzy as the two seat themselves on the sofa and Dick flips on the TV. Tim almost expects to be able to see them snuggling, but somehow seeing Jason’s head in Dick’s lap as the latter runs his fingers through his hair gently feels almost more intimate. 

He shouldn’t be in this position, and he’s so, so screwed. He’s gone from creepily hiding in his brother’s cupboard to accidentally finding out his brothers are dating whilst he’s been in the cupboard too long to make leaving it seem casual. 

Tim really doesn’t want to have to see the first two Robins gazing at each other like it’s a religious experience, but somehow it also seems like one of the most romantic things he’s ever seen. The two are just existing in each other’s space like they were born to do so, with Jason sprawled over the sofa and Dick’s legs as he rereads _Pride And Prejudice_ whilst Dick watches _The Good Place_ , absently messing with the white streak through Jason’s hair. 

* * *

Honestly, Tim’s a bit concerned that they’re planning to get down and dirty at some point, but eventually Dick simply lifts Jason’s head off his lap before standing. 

“I’m heading to bed,” he informs Jason softly. 

“Mmm?” Jason responds. He’s been half asleep in Dick’s lap for the past half an hour, and going to bed is probably the best idea for him. 

“C’mon through when you’re ready,” Dick says, before placing the gentlest of kisses on Jason’s lips and ambling through to the bedroom, then into the bathroom beyond. Jason lies where he is, blinking, for a moment. When Dick’s definitely out of earshot, he turns to look at the closet, and Tim’s heart sinks as Jason gives a lazy grin. 

“Hey baby bird,” he drawls out, “Are you glad you didn’t get an eyeful, or disappointed?” 

It seems he’s caught. Sheepishly, Tim slinks out of the cupboard. Jason laughs softly. 

“How long?” Tim asks, and Jason’s face sobers immediately. 

“Officially? About three months.” 

“And unofficially?” 

“Well. I mean. The same amount of time, but plus a year of therapy to get there.” 

“Therapy?” Of all the words Tim expected out of Jason’s mouth, that’s not one of them. Jason’s face closes up a little. 

“Yeah. Got a problem with it?” 

“No! No way. Good for you, I guess?” Tim doesn’t know the correct protocol, but he at least seems to be broadcasting his sincerity. Jason relaxes again. 

“Why were you even watching us?” Jason enquires after a brief pause. 

“Dick hasn’t spoken to anyone for days. I was worried he was in danger,” Tim admits, “I ended up in the closet by accident, and by the time you were here it... felt like coming out of it would be a worse choice.” 

“Well,” Dick interrupts from where he’s leaning on the door frame into his – his and Jason’s, Tim’s mind amends – bedroom, “I think of all the family, we’re definitely the ones who understand coming out of the closet.” He winks, and Tim and Jason both roll their eyes at the shitty joke at the same time. 

“You’re such an asshole,” Jason grumbles, “Why do I love you?” 

“Because I let you steal all the blankets, and I’m easy on the eyes,” Dick replies promptly, “And speaking of blankets, I’m really tired. You crashing here tonight, Timmy?” 

“I... I guess so,” Tim says, and Dick grins wickedly, with a brief look at the closet that Tim’s been in for two fucking hours. 

“I suppose you know where the spare linens are.”


End file.
